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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377244">Code Red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_Soba/pseuds/Gay_Soba'>Gay_Soba</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Claurenz Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Menstruation, Swearing, Toxic Shock Syndrome Mention, Trans Claude von Riegan, Trans Male Character, blood mention, casual transphobia, idk if anyone needs that tagged but better safe than sorry, it doesn't occur but it is mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:53:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_Soba/pseuds/Gay_Soba</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Long story short, I’ve stopped my birth control, which means I’m bleeding into the toilet and contemplating wadding toilet paper in my underwear because I put off buying menstruation products for when it would start up again.”</p><p>Lorenz paused halfway through slipping on his coat. “Wadding toilet–Claude, that sounds disgusting.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I’m not just gonna let myself bleed through my pants during my awkward, crampy waddle to the store.”</p><p>“You are not waddling to the store, I’ll cancel our reservations and pick up the necessary supplies on my way home.” </p><p>-</p><p>Written for Claurenz Week 2020, Day 3: Modern AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Claurenz Week 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Code Red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Once again, big thanks to Ari and Montana. </p><p>And for those of you who may have missed the tags, this story contains discussions of menstruation and casual transphobia because of how menstruation products are often labeled and organized in the grocery store! I tried to tag for everything I could think of relating to them, but please put your mental health first if these topics are potentially triggering for you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>cancel the reservations im not gonna be able to make it tonight<br/>
</em> <em>not feeling well</em></p><p>Lorenz frowned at his phone screen, remaining seated at his work desk as his coworkers said their goodbyes for the night. If the text were from anyone else, Lorenz would have left it at that. But this was Claude, the man who accidentally poisoned himself more than once while mixing various chemicals for dubious purposes in their university days. It may have been years since the last ‘incident’ but that didn’t mean his husband could not find other ways to test Lorenz’s patience. He was a <em> very </em> creative man, after all. Lorenz immediately dialed Claude’s number and counted the rings until he picked up.</p><p>“<em>Hey, babe, I’m guessing you got my message? </em>”</p><p>“If you thought that such a vague text would assuage any worries I would have, you are gravely mistaken, Claude von Riegan,”  Lorenz said tartly. While Claude had gotten much better at communicating his feelings and needs after several years of dating and marriage, there were times where his husband could still be vexingly guarded. “Are you alright? You looked well this morning but there has been a stomach virus going around–”</p><p><em> “No, no, it’s nothing serious, I’m just stuck on the toilet because… You know how we discussed feeling ready to start trying for kids a few weeks ago? </em>”</p><p>“I recall, yes.”</p><p>
  <em> "Long story short, I’ve stopped my birth control, which means I’m bleeding into the toilet and contemplating wadding toilet paper in my underwear because I put off buying menstruation products for when it would start up again.” </em>
</p><p>Lorenz paused halfway through slipping on his coat. “Wadding toilet–Claude, that sounds disgusting.”</p><p>
  <em> “Yeah, but I’m not just gonna let myself bleed through my pants during my awkward, crampy waddle to the store.” </em>
</p><p>“You are not waddling to the store, I’ll cancel our reservations and pick up the necessary supplies on my way home.” Lorenz stood, switching his phone to his other hand as he finished pulling on his coat.  It couldn’t be that hard, right? Menstruation was something a half of the world’s population experienced at some point in their lives, after all.</p><p>Claude snorted. <em> “No offense, babe, but do you even know what to look for?” </em></p><p>“I will, if you provide me with a list.”</p><p>
  <em> “I’m going to need some tampons, underwear liners, and overnight pads. Oh, and some Midol, I forgot what a pain in the ass cramps could be.” </em>
</p><p>The office door clicked behind him and he checked his watch. It was a little bit past five thirty and, if traffic was forgiving, he would most likely make it back to their apartment around six thirty to seven. “Is there anything else around the apartment that you would like me to pick up as well?”</p><p>
  <em> “No, I already picked up that stuff earlier this week. Hey, Lorenz?” </em>
</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>
  <em> “I really am sorry about not being able to go out tonight. I know how much you were looking forward to our date.” </em>
</p><p>A hard lump formed in Lorenz’s throat at the guilt heavy in Claude’s voice. That infuriating, wonderful, ridiculous man was unable to even leave their bathroom and yet he was worrying about their cancelled dinner plans. “I love you and it’s no trouble at all, darling. All it means is that our plans for tonight have moved indoors, to our apartment,” he said, trying to put as much warmth into his voice as possible.</p><p>
  <em> “... I love you too. Drive safe.” </em>
</p><p>“I will and I’ll see you soon.” With a fond smile, Lorenz ended the call and started to make his way towards the parking garage. As he pulled out his keys, he felt a stroke of inspiration, a way that he may be able to salvage this evening yet. Perhaps I’ll be getting back later than seven after all, he thought to himself as he unlocked the door of his car and slipped into the driver’s side. If he hurried he should be able to make it in time.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Traffic was lighter than he had expected for a Friday night. After his surprise stop, Lorenz made his way to the grocery store nearest to their apartment building, just off of downtown Derdriu. The store’s sterile fluorescent lights put a slight strain on Lorenz’s eyes as he got his cart and walked down to the back aisles.</p><p>Scowling briefly at the sign that read “Feminine Hygiene Products” Lorenz turned into the aisle and immediately froze mid step. Lining the wall was a nightmarishly gendered explosion of pink labeled boxes and plastic packaging, covered in faux feminist language designed to sucker consumers into feeling ethical about their purchase. Lorenz slowly made his way down, eyes darting from price tag to product information. Did Claude have a brand preference? He probably wanted unscented for his pads so that the smell wouldn’t conflict with his usual smoky cologne, right?</p><p>After another minute of weighing his options, Lorenz pulled out his phone and began to type furiously.</p><p><em> To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>Claude, what type of liners, tampons, and overnight pads do you want?<br/>
</em> <em>Is there a brand that you prefer?</em></p><p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>???<br/>
</em> <em>no???<br/>
</em> <em>babe just pick something theyre all basically the same<br/>
</em> <em>except dont pick the scented ones those are nasty</em></p><p><em> To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>Some of these tampons say that they are “light”, “regular”, “super”, and “super plus”, what does that mean?</em></p><p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>omfg this is hilarious i should get you to do my shopping more often<br/>
</em> <em>just get regular</em></p><p><em> To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>And the pads?</em></p><p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>regular</em></p><p>Lorenz turned his gaze back to the menstruation products and grabbed a few of the ones with the largest bulk and least offensive packaging. After glancing around for the Midol, he decided that the next best place to look would be by the painkillers.</p><p><em> To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>Out of curiosity, why do you need the overnight pads? Couldn’t you just sleep with a tampon?</em></p><p><em>From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>oh you naive cisgender summer flower you<br/>
</em> <em>i cant or else i might die</em></p><p><em>To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>Excuse me?!</em></p><p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>yeah if i leave it in too long i could get toxic shock syndrome<br/>
</em> <em>theres this bacteria that likes to reproduce in fully soaked tampons and it releases toxins that can enter the bloodstream and make you sick<br/>
</em> <em>and if you don’t get it treated fast enough you can die</em></p><p><em> To Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>That sounds terrible!</em></p><p><em> From Claude von Riegan:<br/>
</em> <em>ngl menstruation is absolute bullshit</em></p><p>With that in mind, Lorenz immediately grabbed the largest bulk bottle of Midol in the medication aisle and pushed his cart to the check out lane. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m home,” Lorenz called as soon as he was through their front door, his arms full with his purchases. A tiny meow and the delicate ring of a bell sounded from the floor as their cat, Eglantine, tangled herself in his legs as he tried to lock the door.</p><p>“Thank God, my shining knight is here to rescue me from the clutches of the porcelain throne,” Claude’s muffled call answered from the master bedroom. “Hey, can you grab me a fresh pair of underwear?”</p><p>Lorenz set the bags down on the bed and began to ruffle through their shared dresser. “Do you have a preference?” </p><p>“Black boxer briefs.”</p><p>With the requested items in hand, Lorenz slowly opened the bathroom door to peer in. Claude was exactly where he said he would be on the toilet, still in his pressed, yellow work shirt and his pants kicked haphazardly into the corner. He flashed Lorenz a tired smile as he placed his phone on the counter when Lorenz lowered the grocery bags onto the floor. Eglantine ceased her pestering in favor of nosing through the brown paper bags. </p><p>“Thank you for being so patient,” Lorenz said as he handed Claude his underwear.</p><p>“Thank <em> you </em> for spending extra time in traffic and for sparing me an uncomfortable walk to the store,” Claude said over the ripping of plastic and paper. Once satisfied with the placement of the pad, he slid on the underwear and stood up to stretch his back with a groan. “It would have been bad if you’d taken any longer though, my legs were about to fall asleep. Or worse, my phone would’ve run out of battery.”</p><p>“Truly a fate worse than death.” Lorenz leaned against the doorframe as he watched Claude flush the toilet, wash his hands, and take a couple of Midol. </p><p>“Undoubtedly so.” Claude encircled his still damp hands around Lorenz’s waist and tugged him closer. Without needing another word, Lorenz rested his hands on Claude’s biceps and leaned down to press their lips together. After an entire day of paperwork, business meetings, and phone calls that made Lorenz want to tear his hair out, nothing could wash away his fatigue like returning to the warm arms of the man he fell in love with all those years ago. </p><p>"I have a surprise for you," he murmured after the two of them finally separated. "Just a little something to brighten up the evening."</p><p>Claude hummed and nuzzled his face into the crook of Lorenz's neck. "Do I get any hints?"</p><p>"It might have something to do with that Almyran bakery in Northeast Derdriu."</p><p>"Have I ever told you that I love you and that I am so glad that I proposed to you three years ago?"</p><p>Lorenz laughed and wrapped his arms around Claude's shoulders. "Perhaps not in so many words all at once, but yes."</p><p>The two of them stayed there for a few moments more, just taking their time to bask in each other's company. However, between Eglantine's demanding yowls for dinner and their own rumbling stomachs the two of them broke apart and got changed into something more comfortable. It may not have been the grand evening full of exquisite hors d'oeuvres in a high dining atmosphere that he had envisioned, but cuddling on the couch to barely acknowledged youtube videos and kisses in between Almyran cookies and miniature pies wasn't a bad way to spend the night either. There would be other evenings and other dinner reservations. They had the rest of their lives, after all.</p>
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